


Love Me, Sensei!

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Biting, Crossdressing, Dating Sim Style, Dubious Consent, Frotting, M/M, Teacher Student relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic for Eye, who is an absolute sweetheart. She wanted something right out of the anime's. Puffy school uniforms, loose socks, the whole nine yards. Here's hoping, with the smut, it made it to ten yards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me, Sensei!

He’s been doing the same thing for the last month, that Dave Strider. Every day during role call, saying he was available instead of ‘here’. Propping his feet up at the first opportunity and lounging back in his seat, rocking on the back legs until told to stop. Licking his lips before grinning, no, smirking whenever he was called by name. Lifting his shades down just enough for his eyes to flash red over the rim, predatory.

A teacher should never feel so on edge around a student, but for the love of God, this was far more intense than John had ever considered. So different from the gaggle of giggling girls, or the occasional student standing too close, staring too long. This wasn’t simple flirting, this was being hunted.

Dave Strider was a force to be reckoned with.

Leaning too close when he asked questions as John passed along the rows, checking on everyone. Touching his hand, his arm, when he pulled away. Brushing his fingers down his leg when he pulled away, along his back when he’d pass behind him. 

Honestly, it was flat out sexual harassment, but he couldn’t find it in himself to call him out on it.

He should have, really, knew it was wrong.

Completely wrong for students to see their teachers that way. Wrong for him to encourage it like he was by never saying yes or no, merely flushing and ignoring it entirely. He could not entirely ignore other things, however, such as when he suddenly stopped turning in his homework. 

“Dave,” he said in class for the fourth day in a row. “Unless you have a viable reason for not having your homework, better than ‘my brother made me spill soda all over it when we were fighting in the living room’, I’m afraid you’re going to the office today.”

The blonde only grinned broadly, leaning back once more in his seat. Oh, this should be good.

“Well, sorry for the repetition teach. My bad. I can tell you for sure that it wasn’t wrecked by soda.”

“Well then, why don’t you have it?”

The grin gained a few teeth as he tipped his head back nonchalantly and said, “I didn’t see any point in doing that shit, so I skipped it.”

\--

Of course he’d ended up in detention, John marking him up for that Saturday, telling him to bring a notebook and pencil. He was determined to help him break this sudden habit of acting out after seeing his record. High B’s and A’s, never acted out in his other classes, only shenanigans on record was a penchant for sarcasm and a few scuffles in the hallways. The occasional falling asleep in class.

Maybe John could figure out how to put a stop to his blatant flirting as well, or find some better way to deal with it than ignoring it. Possibly be his friend. Or… No. No or, John. You’re a teacher, and that’s illegal to do. Keep your mind to yourself, out of the gutter, and out of the anime section. This is not a dating sim. This is not some porn.

This is a detention on a Saturday, with John alone in his classroom, with Dave Strider sauntering inside wearing one of the girls uniforms. Wearing it well. Wearing it perfectly, actually, hips swaying perfectly in time with the swish of the puffed blue skirt. An inspection as he drew closer proved he was not just wearing the outfit, but a puffed petticoat to accentuate the material better, loose knee high socks, and proper inside shoes.  
His long bangs were pulled aside with a strawberry shaped clip, sparkling with glitter, nails painted a dark shade of red under the cutesy rhinestones. John wondered if he had tied the bow along the back, and at his throat by himself. If he’d done all this by himself or not.

“….Dave, what’s the meaning of this?! This isn’t proper uniform!”

“Actually, it is. I admit, the hair accessory isn’t, and the nails would be frowned on.. but I’m actually wearing the uniform for the school.”

“Well, yes, but.. The girls uniform? Dave, go change. If you didn’t bring your clothes, you will need to put on your gym clothes instead.”

“If it’s all the same, since I’m already wearing proper uniform, can I just stay here and wear it? I know I’m a boy, but hey. Come on,” he grinned, raising his hands to the side and turning in a sharp circle. The skirts swished, bunched around to the side, then re-settled. “I look better in this than most girls.”

He did. Oh, God, he did. Dave looked better than most of the girls in his class, in the entire school. A little bit of makeup, and he’d pass perfectly as a different student, walk right through a ladies gym room without anyone glancing twice.

John swallowed dryly before using his usual tactic, coughing and turning away from the source of the problem to get to his desk. Focus, Egbert. Going over the subject he’d been skipping homework for would likely help get things to head back towards something more normal. A teacher educating his student, making him get caught up before having him work on an essay as punishment. The chance to get him caught up was higher on his list of priorities than merely punishing him for cursing, for slacking on purpose.

For suddenly placing his hands flat onto the tabletop and leaning far over it, humming.

John flinched, nearly tossing his book over his shoulder as he turned sharply to the side, eyeing the blonde.

“Dave, get back to your seat, I’m about to start mapping out the diagrams you need to know for the next test. We went over it in the homework that you obviously haven’t been doing. Without it, you won’t be able t-“

“Shhhh..” Those pale fingers rose up sharply, almost faster than John could track, to clasp around his tie and tug. Forced into the motion, the brunette bent wide eyed, staring into the dark material of his students sunglasses.  
Up close, he could see his eyes clearly, brightly colored iris, pale lashes. They were getting closer as he leaned in. “Come on, teach, how about you tell me something I actually wanna know.”

“Dave, let GO. This isn’t appropriate, I don’t know what you-“

“Bullshit.”

“DAVE STRIDER!”

“Well, it is!” he said as he tugged again, making him focus. “You know just as well as I do that I’ve been trying so hard to get you to notice me. I’ve all but grabbed your ass in the classroom. I’m. Interested. In. You. Am I not good enough or something? Come on, at least tell me that!”

Manicured nails and puffed skirt, dominant stance as he demanded information, the smell of strawberries from what may have been lipgloss that was far too close to his face.

“I… Dave, I can’t do this..”

“If you could, would you?”

“….Most likely.” It was an admission that nearly burnt to say, painful, raw. Of all the students who had hit on him, the only one to really make his blood burn had been the blonde. The persistent, sarcastic blonde in the back row, feet propped up, shades stuck to his face, music too loud during break. The boy who brought pizza to eat at lunch, ate all the toppings off first, then made sandwiches with the crust. The long necked beauty that breathed hot in his ear a word of thanks for helping him work out a particularly stubborn assignment. He made his blood sing.

“If I said I’d only stop if you indulged me once, would you?”

“….I could get fired for that. Arrested. You know that, right?”

“Hah! Best bit of jailbait you could ever have, though. Especially considering I’m willing, and won’t be taking no for an answer.”

John was getting hotter under the collar, weighing his options. Dave had been persistent enough that it finally was coming to a head, biting him in the ass for not reacting sooner, putting a stop to it. A little adventure with a very forward blonde, most likely a great time, in exchange for jail? Or blue balls and regret till the end of the term.

Dave made the choice for him, tugging the tie once more while leaning up, smashing their lips together. It started strong, messy, all teeth and bad aim till he broke and began to work with him, tipping his head to the side with a groan of defeat. It was easier to just let him in, let go of it all, give in to him for now. He’d hate himself later. 

When he felt the heat of a wet tongue press against his lips seeking entry, he opened his mouth obediently, returned the pressure. Let him in deep, suckling, until he’d had enough. Came to his senses. For fucks sake, this was a student. HIS student. Leading him on like it was something so simple, so easy. Manipulating him.

No more.

John grabbed Dave’s hand and loosened the fingers from his tie, slipping away from his grip to slip back behind his desk and sit down, legs spread apart a ways to avoid the discomfort his growing arousal was causing him. Fucking slacks. When the blonde moved to follow, he held his hand up and shook his head in a definite ‘no’. 

“Go lock the doors, if you’re serious about this. I’m not risking someone walking in, and I’m not willing to trap you in here. You don’t want this, you leave and we’ll never talk about it again. No harm done, no marks on your record, detention served. You lock the door, then I’ll go along with what you want when you come back.”

It sounded fair, or at least fair enough judging from how fast he turned and trotted to the door, turning the lock and checking it just to be certain it would hold. For good measure, he turned off the lights, using the light streaming in from through the curtains to guide his steps. It highlighted his hair, added extra shadows to his pale legs, made the sight of the panties hiding beneath the skirt he was hiking up as he drew nearer far easier to see.

They were blue striped, breaking his apparent preference for red, frilled along the edges of his thighs in white lace that dipped between flesh and disappeared as he dutifully climbed onto John’s lap. Once more, he initiated the kiss, more refined albeit more daring. Instead of gripping at his tie, he held onto his hair, carding through the dark strands before gripping it and arching his chest closer.

He only began to show how vocal he was when he felt wide palms and long fingers smooth down his sides, his hips, his thighs, before sliding back up under the voluminous fabric of the skirt. When John hissed through the kiss, begging him to be quiet, he only grew louder. Obstinate, bull headed Dave Strider.

A solid bite to the side of his neck muffled him a bit, though it did nothing to slow him down, hips beginning to rut forwards against his lap, tugging at his hair till his scalp stung. So. He liked being bit, huh? John began kissing down the length of his throat till he hit softer flesh, nipping it sharply. When Dave gasped, he did it again. Then again, even harder, holding it, knowing it would bruise. 

Served him right, really, considering he’d started it. Had pushed it along. Had continued rutting against him and god DAMN it, he was amazing at it. He was perfect. His skin was sweet and warm, giving when he squeezed it in his hands, unyielding where it met his groin, hot and rigid.

They moved together, making the chair squeak, John releasing his neck only when he stopped moaning so loudly, putting a muffle on it by taking his own turn at biting, low, under the collar where nobody would be able to easily see as he worked. For Dave to have marks was one thing: he was a student, he was at the age where it would be considered normal to have a hot and heavy make out session with a girlfriend or boyfriend or even a lover. For John? It was unprofessional.

This whole thing was unprofessional, Dave rocking hard on his lap, gripping at his shoulders, mouth open to pant air and murmur dirty things under his breath. Things that made John’s throat run dry and his eyes threaten to roll back in his head.

“You like that, don’t you teach. You can’t lie to me. You’ve wanted to tap this since I walked in the door. Admit it. Go on, say it, and I might let you.” He was a lot less imposing when his words were breathy and light, arms shaking from the force he was gripping with.

He had. He admitted as such. Admitted it over and over and over again as he finally reached up to tug the striped panties down a fraction, giving up and ripping them off instead before undoing his button and zipper. This would be enough. It would have to be. This was wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t help himself. This force of nature known as Dave Strider had gotten him to the point of eruption, and by God, he was not coming in his pants like a preteen. 

He would pay him back for being so insistent, for riding at him for these last few minutes, bouncing till he was seeing stars and the slacks grew far too tight to bear. After all, his hands were larger, easily wrapping around their lengths and holding them together, giving a testing stroke or two. The blonde grunted and immediately tried to ride into his hand more, hips spastic, twitching, perfect nails gripping hard enough at John’s shoulders to leave marks beneath his shirt.

In keeping up with both of their desires, John’s hand flew, Dave moves rhythmically and arched his back, bit at his neck. Neither of them lasted long. How could they? Who could, in that situation? The tissues he kept in his desk drawer made quick work of Dave’s skirt and thighs, the underside of his dick. John wished he could have framed the look on his face when he gave his hand a curious taste test before cleaning it all the way off, tending to his own slacks and forearm. 

He didn’t want to leave. Neither of them wanted to so much as move off that seat, because touching the floor would break the spell they’d cast on the room. They’d go back to being teacher and student, not allowed to be near each other. Instead of pushing him off like he should have, they milked the afterglow for all it was worth, John stroking at his narrow back, Dave laying light kisses against the side of his jaw and cheek.

“…I could still get fired for this.”

“I know.”

“…You don’t care, do you.”

“Sorta.”

“Sorta isn’t an answer, Dave. Come on.. Talk to me. At least for now, talk to me, okay?”

There was no way to prepare for those bright red eyes staring at him, pale eyebrows creased with worry, face sincere. Troubled. He’d removed his sunglasses to do this, leaning back on his lap till his ass was suspended in the empty space between his knees.

“…Because if you get fired, then I might stand a chance of being able to date you.”

Well, that was kind of out of left field. Date? He’d been certain this little dance they were doing had been purely about physical needs, lust. Not genuine attraction. Yet, judging by the look on his face, the flush growing ever darker, he was being quite serious.

Hoo, boy.

Would it.. be all that bad? He was attractive, yes. But what else did he know about him? He was athletic and bull headed, sarcastic beyond his years. Intelligent, judging by his grades in the past, and in other classes. A loner.  
Even if nothing ever came of it, John couldn’t find it in himself to give outright rejection. Not after what they’d just done.

“Dave.. I’ll be level with you, okay?” Dutiful, he nodded and scooted closer on his lap to listen. “I’m not positive it could work between us. I’m older than you by a few years, feelings change. Especially at your age, where things are really impermanent. But.. I’ll tell you what. I’ll wait for you. If you’re serious, and really want to try making something of this, I’ll wait until it’s something we’re capable of doing. When you’re older, we can give it a shot, okay?”

\---

Two years later, after many half assed attempts to not look like they were dating whenever they’d go places together, Dave walked off the graduation stage. He waited until the final diploma had been given, the last hand shaken, the final photo op posed for. Waited till he saw blue eyes and dark hair off to the edge of the crowd.

His kisses had always been forceful whether he was in a skirt or not, more-so now that he was taller on his own instead of on unsteady heels as he took baby steps on dates before learning how to strut. Yet when he asked his former teacher out in front of everyone, it was likely the strongest it had ever been, positive he’d get a yes.

He did.

**Author's Note:**

> Original tumblr post- http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/33857446256/love-me-sensei

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Detention In Room 413](https://archiveofourown.org/works/957029) by [celestial-pansexual (sanguineMantra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguineMantra/pseuds/celestial-pansexual)




End file.
